


Why can’t i breathe?

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Panic Attacks, Social Anxiety, if you hadn’t guessed Emily is me, this was kinda therapeutic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Social anxiety, this is what if feels like.For me at least.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Why can’t i breathe?

Clock ticks, pencils tap, feet slide, people talk, but she sits still. Fingers twisting around the loose thread of her sleeve, pulling and twirling, sweat slicking her grip. Fingers trembling, hands wiping across the fabric of her skirt, hands shaking; she sits. Nothing happens, she can’t hear anything, it’s quiet, but her brain isn’t, never stopping. Her heart pounds in her chest, and all she wants is for it to calm down. Eyes watching the back of her head, eyes watching. Whispered words etch their way into her skin, cheeks blushing as she wonders if they’re talking about her. Hears her name, head snaps up, looks for who said the words, the name that has no worth, but she sees no one’s looking.

Fear shoots through her veins, ducks her head, hair falling into her face. Is anyone looking? Can they see the flush on my cheeks? Do I look weird? Do I not fit in here? She wants to leave, hands threaded together, she pulls at her thumb, squeezes till the skin turns white, till it hurts. She stops, but her brain doesn’t, thoughts running through her head, never stopping, never slowing, always talking.

She breathes, fast and uneven, no one looks, she picks up the water bottle, placing the lip at her mouth, swallowing, she needs to look like she’s doing something, can’t just sit, can’t look weird. She drinks from the bottle in big pulls, swallowing water like it will save her, like she’s swimming in the ocean and the water is the buoyancy aid. 

She wonders when she’ll get out of here, rooms too small, needs to breathe, Can’t do that squished between two chairs, trapped between two people. When she knows they’re looking, they have to be. She turns, subtly, can’t draw attention, can’t. Stares at the clock, watches the hands tick slowly across the face. It’s not time yet, she counts the minutes, counts the seconds, listens to the words in her head while she waits. Can’t concentrate, can’t hear, can’t do this; eyes, they’re watching, that’s all they ever do. 

She bounces a leg, slides a hand down beneath her thigh, feels the skin of her leg, digs in with her fingers, digs red tresses into her skin, doesn’t stop until the pain takes the words away, until blood flows, and all she knows is pain, nothing else. Sighs as she feels the cool drops slide across her skin, it’s not a lot, but it’s a couple of drops, and that’s enough. Because it hurts. 

She pulls back, doesn’t pull her head up, hides behind the black strands of hair. Can’t show her face, can’t show expression, can’t. She sighs, waiting, time will come, she’ll be out of here, she doesn’t have to stay, she doesn’t.

Clock ticks, pencils tap, feet slide, people talk, but people stand, packing up, stalking out. They’re gone; she is too. She leaves quicker than they do, rushing for the door, grasping for the handle like it’s made of air, needs to get out. She does, sucks in a breath, she’s out, she doesn’t have to sit, but the eyes are still watching, she’s never free, never. She runs, doesn’t slow until she’s alone, sucking in air, breathing, the pressure on her lungs is gone, the weight sitting on her chest has left. She’s free.

She doesn’t like people, she doesn’t like them, she doesn’t like the way they stare, she doesn’t know what they’re thinking, what they’re saying about her. She doesn’t know if she fits in, she wants to, but her fears outweigh her needs. Making her hands shake, she sits, waits until she has to be pulled back into the room, the room with no air, the room that’s too small. But it does have air, it isn’t too small, it’s her mind that tells her it doesn’t and that it’s not. 


End file.
